Down We Fall
by VanillaSpiders
Summary: Spencer is a pretty sturdy kid when you think about it. The amount of monsters and villains he's out lasted is a lot, and he always seems to come out of it without a scratch. But what if during the episode of Axe Maniac he doesn't this time? And what does this mean for Billy, who never really seemed to notice his bro's mortality until now?
1. Part I

**Author's Note: I've decided I wanted to explore a little more into the characters and put a more serious spin on their story. Billy's way of fucking things up for Spencer IS hilarious—but did you ever notice the little things BJC does? Day to day things, like bringing Cleet's phone to him during 'The Candidate' without being asked, or saving him from Rajeev's karate chop. Billy may be terrible at the big things…but it's the little stuff I find heartwarming, because at the end of the day, Billy really does care for Spencer. That, and they have more sexual tension than Drake and Josh.  
**

* * *

"_It's just a sad song,  
That pulls you along yeah  
It's just a sad song,  
And it won't take long…"  
_

* * *

"Glop of the Gods, right buddy?"

At those words the ghost of Billy Joe Cobra perked up and swung round to grin at his kid, arms swinging out happily.

"You were listening to me after all!" He cried ecstatically, reaching out to pull Spencer into a hug. In retrospect he should have known better; Spencer knew him better than anyone ever had cared or wanted to. Something about him not playing well with others—whatever! That was in the past and _now_ he had his little bromingo. The afterlife couldn't be better!

A roar interrupted their bro-onding moment and they both froze. Right—okay the afterlife WOULD get better as soon as this loser was out of their hair. Both ghost and human went wide eyed as the plane they were standing on shook from the power of the Boss' anger. As if that wasn't enough a massive hand still covered in peanut butter lifted up from the depths and they both yelled in terror. Billy went on auto and swirled round Spencer, grabbing him roughly by the waist and flinging them both toward the exit back into his and Spencer's room. Almost…there! The ghost put on an extra burst of speed to ensure their freedom, and in the end that proved to be the downfall.

They looked home free until the Elvis-wannabe boss monster slammed into Billy's ankle as he neared the back of the tv screen. The force was quick and heavy, and it was enough to knock him off his flight pattern, causing both he and Spencer to cry out. Billy in pain (apparently ghosts COULD hurt other ghosts) and Spencer called his name worriedly. The world spun and Billy's shoulder clipped the side of the screen, catching him even more by astonishment, and he floundered in midair as they streaked into the bright light.

"Gyah!" The ghost managed in surprise, and they toppled heavily through the glowing screen out into the large bedroom. The problem was they kept _going_, completely out of control. He was vaguely aware of Spencer's voice yelping his name as the room swung and spun, but Billy couldn't have answered even if he wanted to. Billy's grip on Spencer slipped—but that was fine right? Totally, Spencer would like land on the bed or the chair or something! They'd just flown over it! He heard a dull thud and wondered for a flash what on earth THAT noise was—but the next instant Billy was more concerned with the fact he had just face planted into the far wall of the room, right above the bed. That's when his own yelling was cut off abruptly and he stayed there a moment, body pressed flat and completely thrown for a loop. _Woah_…

Gravity didn't affect him in the slightest (not unless he wanted it too) so when Billy fell back down about five feet onto the mattress, it wasn't because of earth's pull. It was because he wasn't able to focus enough to maintain his floating ability, and he lay there a moment, staring dazedly at the ceiling and wondering why in God's name his glow in the dark stars were moving in circles around his head. Spencer had been right that one time, ghosts didn't feel pain. They did however, get disoriented enough that normal functions for them become hard or impossible. Something to do with electromagnetic waves do-dads or something, Billy wasn't sure. And right now, he didn't have time to dwell on it; they weren't out of the woods yet.

He tuned back into reality when an angry shout caused the birds to vanish. His eyes opened fully and he stared upside down at the glowing screen of the plasma across the room. Oh, dammit. His brain to slammed into high overdrive. Billy shook his head a couple times to clear his thoughts and untangled his long boneless legs from their clumsy knot. Right—the bossman guy!

"Hah!" He flung up and righted himself, clenching his fists as his eyes fell on the hand trying to reach out. He puffed his chest out and put the best bravado he could into his next words.

"Nice try laaaam-o, but you are _totally_ no match for me and Spencersarus!" Billy Joe mocked, swinging his finger at the Boss in a 'tsk tsk' motion. The Boss glared at him from behind the TV screen and Billy felt his confidence slip, so he did what he usually did when he got too scared to handle the situation. He called Spencer into it, mostly because Spencer could literally make everything better.

"Right bro?" No answer. "…uh, bro?" The ghost blinked and cast around, eyes scanning the room for—

"Oh there you are!" He ducked the huge swinging arm still coming out of the flatscreen and hovered over his little bro. Who was lying in a heap of limbs on his side, facing a wall. Was kind of a weird position but hey. Billy had done worse to himself, including but not limited to the time he tied his overstretched body into two knots that took Spencer over two hours to untie. So Billy didn't really understand why it was such a big deal yet that his little bro wasn't responding to him like usual.

"Spence? I—_HEY_!" Billy gave an indignant shout as that monstrous hand swung a little too close to them—Spencer's hair moved from the breeze, and Billy glared over his shoulder at the screen. Funny how his fear didn't seem so bad when the thought of Spencer getting hurt overrode his emotions and thoughts. Narrowed, glowing blue eyes fell on the game console, trailing to follow the cord that connected it to the TV and—light bulb moment!

"Let's see how tough you are with no TV dipwad!" With a wicked grin Billy closed the space between them, momentarily forgetting about anything other than making sure this jacked up creep of a video game didn't get its grimy mitts on his little Bromeo _ever_ again. No way in Hell was that happening, not as long as The Great Billy Joe Cobra was around to protect him!

Billy dodged the half out Boss monster and grabbed hold of the console, not caring for being gentle with it. He had like, 12 more in storage anyway. With a grunt and a fizzle of electricity the plug came out and Billy shot for the window, chucking everything out all in one go. It might have landed in the same UPS truck that delivered the game that morning but Billy didn't particularly care or notice. He was too busy brushing his hands together and feeling pleased with himself.

Man, Spence was gonna positively sing his praises over _this_ latest heroic act!

Speaking of which…

"Close call right Spencestar?" Billy laughed as he turned around, expecting his kid to be back up and moving like he _always_ was.

Now that the adrenaline from almost dying a second time was wearing off, Billy focused better. His eyes landed on the still crumpled form of his kid and it startled him so much he actually paused, unable to process. Why…was Spencer _still_ lying like that? All facing the wall, on his side, arm flung awkwardly over his waist and unresponsive.

"Ah-hah…hey bro? The Boss is gone, it's all okay now. Billy Joe Cobra took care of it for ya!" Billy didn't really know what to do in this situation expect…talk more. It never failed, someone, usually Spencer, always responded and gave him the attention he wanted if he was obnoxious enough. So the ghost streaked back over to Spencer's side and bent over him, laughing sheepishly. He dutifully ignored the tiny fluttering feeling in a place where he thought his stomach used to be.

"What are you doing lying down on the job? Dude there's only so much beauty sleep you can get before it just doesn't do anything for ya anymore, Brotato! So c'mon, get up and we can go do something together now!" Billy called jovially as he waited for Spencer to move and answer him…or…or do something. Anything at all.

A few beats passed, and Billy gave a nervous laugh as Spencer failed to answer him. Billy felt something heavy in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"…Spence?" Nothing. It was then Billy Joe Cobra started paying attention to that little fluttering emotion, which had been steadily growing stronger. It was a strange alien emotion, and not one he was sure he liked at all. But he did know everything would totally be okay once Spencer answered him or gave him that wry little smile like always.

Billy reached out and took hold of the kid's skinny shoulder, pulling toward himself just a bit. Spencer's body rolled over at the gesture. Jeez, the kid just moved like dead weight—_oh god don't think like that, never think the D word ever again man, you know how freaked out you get—_and Spencer stopped moving only when his spine met the floor. The kid's head lolled a bit. And honestly, with his right arm and leg flopping lifelessly with his torso? He looked just like a rag doll, a discarded item no longer needed. The movement gave Billy Joe Cobra a first class view at the closed eyes and the gash arcing just over the kid's right eyebrow. It was highlighted by his pale skin, and emphasized the blood trickling slowly from the cut. Blood.

That was Spencer's _blood_. Billy stared and glanced up a little bit at the wall he'd pulled Spencer from. Blood. On the wall he'd collided with, staining it. And again, fresh and bright red, dribbling lightly down the side of his face until it ran into his thick brown hair and slowed. Bl….ood…?

"Nh…heh, uh Bro you, you got a little…a little…" The ghost's voice trailed off, staring vacantly at the kid's head wound as his mind fought to work through what it was he was seeing. Something, maybe the part of him that wasn't alive anymore, started do weird things to his psyche. It felt like his mind was being torn in two, and the lack of Spencer, or his smile or his warm body, was only making everything worse.

_Ghosts never got hurt!—_He wasn't a ghost—_yes he was_—Yeah, okay HE was but Spencer wasn't—_Spencer's fine! He's always fine_!—No, no he wasn't something was wrong, Spencer was wrong, e-everything was WRONG!

A loud shatter broke him from his thoughts and Billy looked up at the ceiling, staring dumbly at the shattered light fixture for a moment. Had he…done that?

"…Spencer?" Billy finally asked in a tiny un-popstar tone as he turned back to the unmoving form. He sounded like a little kid, and maybe that's all Billy had ever been. It took all his will power to look back at Spencer, and even more to tear his gaze from the blo—_red stuff_—and notice the parted lips and the way the kid's chest rose, just a little bit. Shallowly was better than none at all, but Billy didn't know how he knew that. He just did.

"Spence…wake up." He tried again, tentatively reaching a hand out, but he didn't make contact. Honestly, the way Spencer wasn't answering him was enough to scare Billy right out of the afterlife and into a new one. Billy heard a sad noise, like a sob, and it took him a moment to realize the noises were coming from him. He ignored them though, and gingerly hauled his little bro into his lap and held him against his chest. When Spencer slumped down against him, the ghost winced as if he'd been struck. This was NOT normal Bromingo behavior. Spencer always reacted! Even when he was asleep and having a nightmare, and Billy settled next to him to hum a song to calm the little guy down. Even conked out and snoring to prove it the kid moved in his sleep, usually burrowing into the blankets but rolling up against Billy's cold chest. Spencer did none of this now. Panic started creeping through him, making his blue fingers tingle faintly with something that didn't come when you were human. Or when he was around Spencer.

"C'mon buddy, knock it off. This isn't funny anymore!" Billy tried, voice getting louder and a little scolding, as if he could yell the kid awake. Because this totally was a game, right?

Shit, why hadn't he noticed until now how _small_ Spencer really was? He was downright fucking tiny, just a damn kid.

_Because before he'd always gotten back up?_ Billy shuddered at the nasty thought in his head and he leaned protectively the human's frame. _But it's a little late for that now, isn't it ghost?_ The thought struck him hard and his mind reeled as he stared down at his best friend's body. Billy's arms tightened round Spencer's frame and he leaned down, calling his name softly. The floor and walls shuddered around them, or maybe Billy was doing it, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was—_Everything hurts, I hate this and I'm scared and Spencer can make it better, wake up, wake up!_

"Spencer, please, _please_ wake up!" No, no this was not happening—_Spencer's fine, he's fine, he's alright, you're alright_—But the kid wasn't moving or waking up, or doing anything at all that Billy loved—_No, he's alright, nothing's wrong, don't lose it man, you gotta __**focus**__, you gotta—!_

"SPENCER!" It was a shout accompanied with the sound of shattering glass. Everything that ran off electricity in the mansion flared and exploded with a shatter of glass and a fizzle of light. Spencer's face was cast in a dim eerie glow cast by the spectral glow of Billy's skin, and he hated it.

And _still_, Spencer ignored him.

"…S-Spencer…?" He closed his eyes, guilt and pain crushing his chest and spreading outward. He felt so, so…helpless—_Spencer's fine except he's not and you did this, you did this to him you monster, you ruined his life now too!—_What the hell could he do anyway? He didn't know how to help his little bro. Everyone was afraid of him in the house or couldn't see him—_Your fault too, you couldn't take care of yourself let alone another life, younger than yours! Ruined! Waste! Pathetic_! _Die, Cobra, you snake!—_and so Billy Joe Cobra, who suddenly felt as bad as Spencer looked, gently lowered Spencer's body to the floor with more care and tenderness than he'd shown anyone ever, in a long time.

_You're fault. You're faultyou'refaulYOU'REFAULT._

"I'm sorry bro, I," He swallowed and pulled back when ectoplasm started leaking from his eyes. It became too much and the nasty thoughts in his head suddenly swelled up and consumed him, something thick and dark. His fisted hands hanging at his side suddenly went slack and his hands opened. He hadn't realized until now how much Spencer's presence kept it at bay.

"_I'm so sorry."  
_

* * *

"…hnh…"

Everything freaking hurt.

But mostly, his head hurt. As consciousness tickled slowly back to the young Wright, he became aware of that much. His head throbbed even, thumping in time with his own pulse. Okay, so he was alive, if he had a pulse. Right, that…that was good.

"_Ohhh_…" Spencer managed, gritting his teeth to fight the nausea. His limbs were moving slower than he expected when he first started moving. He took a deep breath before he trusted his eyes to remain open, and stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment. He tried to focus, and after a few attempts it became easier. He was Spencer Wright. He was 14. He wanted to be a filmmaker. And he'd been playing Axe Maniac since he'd got it and, and then he…

Then he what? Oh…kay. Memory blank big time. Yikes.

He lifted a heavy arm and lightly prodded the area where his head hurt. The pain turned sharp at the contact and he flinched, hissing as he screwed his eyes shut. Not about to do that again. It took almost two minutes before he trusted himself and his muscles to sit up, and even then it took another three more minutes to do so. He rested against the wall of his bedroom and rubbed his right shoulder gently. That hurt too, now that his head subsided to a lower ache. Huh, he felt better when he sat up. Must have been the blood flow.

Spencer thought for a moment, and remembered dimly what transpired. The game had come to life, they'd doused the Boss in peanut butter and fled and—

And then what? Welp. This sucked.

Nervously the kid glanced over at the tv, but it was sitting there innocent and dark, the screen cracked. Wait—the screen cracked!? That hadn't been done by the Elvis Boss, had it? Where had it gone? Come to think of it, his console was gone to, even the controller. Spencer could only link the missing pieces together and assume (a little hopefully) that this meant the Boss was gone for good. The cracked screen and the fact a lamp was in shards on the floor a foot from him was a whole other mystery still.

"W-what the hell…"

How did he get here? Like this, lying on the floor of his bedroom with a splitting headache and utterly alone—

Woah woah woah. Hold up. He hadn't been alone for the past 7 _months_. Spencer kicked a neuron in gear and looked around as quickly as he could move without making himself dizzy, casting around.

_Billy_.

"Billy? Hey, Billy?" Spencer voice was weaker than expected. He winced at the sound of his tone and half expected the ex-popstar to come through a wall teasing his lame-o voice and posture. He kept calling the ghost's name though. He couldn't help it, he was a kid and he was hurt and he wasn't convinced he didn't need a hospital. He wanted Billy if only to know the ghost was alright, because even if Cobra made messes worse in every other aspect of his life the ghost's presence was usually enough to calm Spencer down. Billy was…was a constant, yeah that was the word for it. A constant in his life, screw up and egotistical maniac and all. Spencer needed him, and he needed him right now.

"Billy? Hey, if y-you can hear, come here man, I need…shit I think I need…gah! J-just come here!" He finished, letting a whine leak into his voice. What? The situation called for it, and anyway Spencer decided he didn't really care of the ghost made fun of him or not, he just really needed the guy. Maybe more than he'd ever care to admit.

And when that didn't happen, Spencer frowned and tried to stand up. Vertigo slammed his senses and his head throbbed in protest. So he slumped back down, holding onto the wall for support. He closed his eyes against the flash of pain and called for his best friend again. Billy almost always came when he called, if he sounded desperate enough and was in the vicinity. Hell, half the time Cobra swooped in before Spencer could get his first name out!

But when time stretched on and still the ghost didn't show up, Spencer's sadness slowly rekindled into righteous indignation. He didn't know what else to do so he got a little upset, a little hurt.

"F-fine…screw you, man." He spit the words with as much venom as possible, pained in more ways than one now. Spencer mustered what little strength he had left, fought the upheaval of his stomach as it crept up his throat and hauled himself up on shaky legs.

"…Y-you promised you'd always be there. I should have known you were lying a-about that too." He muttered, blaming the tears in his eyes on the fact he was bleeding from the skull. Well, not anymore, it seemed to have dried b-but still!

So Spencer Wright stumbled through his room unsteadily, clutching his head and sniffling. Had he been a little more aware, he might have noticed the floating guitar pick on a chain follow after him until he got to elevator, clutched in a blue (albeit invisible) hand.

* * *

"I didn't break my promise Bromeo. I'm, I'm still here." But Spencer didn't hear that, and Billy knew that. It didn't mean he had come to terms with it, because he kept speaking to the kid.

"I just…can't let you get hurt again. Cause next time you might not, might not get back up—"_ YourfaultYourfaultYourfault_ "And I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around anymore." Billy gave a humorless chuckle, speaking mostly to himself as he rubbed his arm and watched Spencer hit the 1 button on the elevator.

"But all the stuff that's tried to do you in, or control your mind or whatever was stuff that's been MY fault in one way or the other. And I, I'm really sorry little bro b-but if this is what keeps you alive then fuck it, I'm gonna do it."

He couldn't stop himself from floating after Spencer though, no matter how hesitantly. Spencer was his _whole world_ and the words previously aimed at him stung, but not as much as Billy's own mental train of thought was. It felt like it was trying to kill him, again.

He was relived the kid was moving and it had taken what little self control he had not to fling around the kid and hug him tight. Maybe make a new promise that he'd never let go this time. His joy and relief had instantly flooded to chest constricting guilt when the first coherent words out of the kid's mouth were his name. Aw, jeez. To top it off each call sounded a little more desperate, a little more scared. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't taken the guitar pick off his kid's neck. He wondered if Spence's anger still would have bubbled to the surface and unleashed upon him.

That was that Billy had been afraid of, honestly. Billy Joe Cobra would rather die a second time than hear Spencer confirm his worst fear.

That this was all Billy's fault.

And god Billy couldn't even argue this time, could he? Sure—this whole fiasco might have been avoided by Spencer just listening to him and letting go of that dumb game. But there was no excuse for Billy dropping the kid and letting him slam head first into a wall! That was on the Cobra.

Billy moaned to himself and floated after the elevator, but was careful to keep in the dark shaft as it went down. Spencer might feel the cold that surrounded him and think he was still around.

And that was why, hurt and miserable and very much a ghost, the thought curdled in Billy's mind and seeped into his emotions, his actions. The regret was being amped by his ghostly nature, and he wasn't going to notice until it was much too late.

If he ever noticed at all, that is.

* * *

**Not 100% sure if I should continue this. I like it, so I just might! **


	2. Part II

**Author's Note: I just don't learn do I. Second time's the charm? **

* * *

"_Every now and then we find a special friend,_  
_Who never lets us down._  
_Who understands it all, reaches out each time you fall,_  
_**You're the best friend that I've found."**_

* * *

Now, to be honest, his Dad's _scream of utter terror_ wasn't really helping anything, least of all the dull pain in Spencer's head. It was just starting to fade too. As Spencer had walked out of the elevator into the kitchen and pulled his hand back from his temple, everyone had seen the gash over his eye. And everyone of course, had different responses.

His sister said she'd seen worse, (and she probably had) his Dad went paler than Spencer felt and almost hit the ground when he nearly fainted, (the table sort of caught him) and his mom rushed over and got him a chair and whipped her cell phone from thin air, dialing 911.

His mom was the best.

"I'm alright I just—Look maybe someone should help Dad up too," His mother cut him off as she got off the phone and promptly asked,

"What on earth _happened_!?" Spencer had the decency to look sheepish anyway.

"I, erh…I was taking some shots for a new movie and my special effects kind of…unaffected on me and I fell?"

They bought it, and he still doesn't believe that they did. He wasn't sure if that made him a great liar or them questionable parents.

The next hour was a blur of sirens and gurneys and EMTs putting a mask over him and telling him he'd be just fine. Cut wasn't even that deep.

He wrinkled his noise at the mask but obeyed and let them work, fading in and out.

Three stitches tops, kid. Pupils responsive, hey kid follow this light…good, good.

Spencer just groaned and knitted his eyes shut, starting realize his shoulder and side were feeling stiff. He'd slammed right into that wall, hadn't he? Of all the stupid stunts it was _this_ that finally called for a trip to Emergency. Spencer couldn't decide if this made him incredibly lucky, or just incredibly stupid. He settled for a mix of both and did his best to stay awake like everyone ordered.

* * *

Billy'd poked his head quietly through the kitchen wall, and had spent the last twelve minutes tracking Spencer. And also bitching and moaning at the EMTs tracking dirt all over his favorite rug, but no one heard him and probably no one cared.

Really, Billy didn't care either. He was just so concerned about Spencer he was getting ruffled by every little thing. His dad's freaking out, his sister's apathy and almost glee, and of course, Spencer's wellbeing. And oh boy, was the guy who had his mitts all over Spenc sure asking for it!

"What the hell do you think you're doing—is that even sterile!? I see you groping for a pulse—it's right, look it's right there! Oh, you couldn't find your ass with both hands and a flashlight, could you?" The lights flickered and the microwave beeped irritably. The ignorance of his presence by every living human there made him even more disgruntled, but he streaked his long body after Spencer when he was loaded onto a gurney anyway. Besides, anytime he couldn't see Spencer he felt a vague tingly feeling in his center, and Billy didn't like it.

The ghost drifted over Spencer's form and watched him for a bit. Then he felt the ambulance moving and he shot into the driver portion of the vehicle to chastise the driver's mediocre at best driving skill.

"I don't care if that's a red light you've got the sirens! Use or loose 'em idiot!"

* * *

Spencer must have blacked out, or someone put something else in his mask because the next thing he knew, he was blinking up at a too bright ceiling. His head didn't hurt per say, it just sort of felt _there_. In fact all over his body felt like it was rather just existing. Not doing much of anything. Also he thought he could see the trash can melting into the floor—

That was strange.

Oh. Painkillers most likely. Spencer moaned and lifted a heavy hand. After two unsuccessful attempts his fingers met thick cloth and he realized sluggishly it was gauze wrapped around his head.

"Great. I look like a mummy." He spoke out loud, forgetting he was still surrounded by no Billy. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and he looked over at his bedside for any chance of a glass of water. Zilch. '_If Billy were here he could find some__.__'_

This thought made him frown and he itched at his neck distractedly. Spencer weakly started to sit up. His fingers twitched to automatically move the chain so he could get to the spot and he froze. He scrabbled, actually tried to bend his head down and around to see for himself which was of course impossible and only served to cause more pain. But either way the result was the same, his fingers met only skin, or hair, or fabric. There was no consoling weight of a thin chain at all.

"Wah? Oh no! The guitar pick!" Spencer cried, sitting up much faster than intended. The room spun dizzily and he moaned, vaguely aware of his Dad rushing into the room, calling his name.

"You're awake, great! I—"

"Dad! Dad, where's my necklace—you know, the one I always have on? It's red and—"

"That silly old charm thing from your cousin, son?" The man said cheerfully. Spencer gave him a tired look and deadpanned,

"…yes. Yes, that one."

"Don't worry; they probably had to remove it when you were in the ambulance."

That actually was pretty logical. Crap. He really was on drugs, if his Dad was starting to make sense.

"So, so it made it to the hospital too, right?" Spencer tried to reason, wondering why his voice was so high pitched all of a sudden. It's not like he _cared_ Billy was gone. He was supposed to be mad at the toolbox. What was that about absence making the heart grow fonder?

"Well I'm assuming son! We'll find out for you, but visiting hours just ended. Mom left her cell if you need anything, but you've got to stay here a night for observation!" Spencer wondered why his Dad was better suddenly, and then remembered it was probably because the bleeding was contained, covered and cleaned. He was wearing a thin blue shirt and pants even. And he had to stay here a while night? _Gross_.

"But—"

"Oh! I've got to get the doctor in here to take a look at you, you hold tight bucko."

His dad patted his shoulder and excused himself, saying he'd "be back in a jiff" and "see what they have for you to eat in this place." Spencer didn't hear him; he was too busy patting his neck a second time just to see if maybe it had been left on after all. M-maybe he'd just missed it!

Orr maybe it was back home too! Yeah—that could have been it!

Spencer groaned and flopped back against the pillows. And maybe Lolo would marry Rajeev and they'd have 2.5 kids and live Happily Ever After. Mhm. There wasn't a snow ball's chance in Hell that guitar pick came off so easily. He and Billy both were anal about making sure the thing stayed around his neck. Wait—he _and_ Billy…

A new thought struck the wannabe film producer then. It hit him so strong and was so forbidding Spencer's eyes widened.

What if Billy hadn't answered him…_because he wasn't able to?_

The idea came so fast and unbidden Spencer's temple throbbed for a moment, and the monitor next to him showed his heart had skipped a few beats. He ignored it though and stared numbly at the ceiling, blindsided. That was a really good point, and he blamed being slow on the uptake for the fact he had painkillers coursing through his system.

What if that Boss monster thing had managed to take down Billy? Had they taken down each other, had Billy gone kamikaze on him like the complete dolt he was?

"Argh—but ghosts can't!" Spencer moaned out loud, then realized what he was saying. Of course another ghost could harm another ghost—that made sense.

Cancelled each other out? Could Billy's ectoplasm be that strong it rivaled the strength of its maker? There were too many questions, to many unknowns and they made Spencer uneasy as Hell. It was alright for others to be dazzled by his special effects and stunts, but at the end of the day Spencer _loved_ being able to know the inner workings of something. He craved answers, and up until he met Billy, he hadn't truly believed in ghosts and haunting. They had always boiled down to some cheap fishing wire, or faulty wiring in a lamp that caused 'eerie' flickers. There was a logical explanation for everything until Billy Joe Velcroed to his side.

The ghost of Billy Joe Cobra (who was arguably more lively than half the people Spencer had met in this fake plastic town) had proved everything wrong and changed the game so much Spencer was more than happy to put up with the ghost's stints in exchange for amping up the effects in his B rated movies. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing to lose with Billy's friendship (although certain arguments could be made concerning his sanity, he'd agree with that.) but either way Billy had proven on more than one occasion to be the solution to his problems as much as he was the cause of them. Sure Billy was a screw up sometimes, but overall he meant well and anyway he was Spencer's screw up. They were bros.

'_At least I thought we were.'_ Spencer thought glumly.

So now Spencer had two answers when it came to the movies. Either it was some guy in a costume…or holy shit it was _real_. But this wasn't a movie right now, no one was gonna yell cut. Billy wasn't going to magically appear apparently, and make him feel better.

Spencer was alone here by himself, with nothing. No friend, no parents, he didn't even have an answer now, just confusion. And more than a little bit of hurt. Billy might have left on purpose, or he might not be able to reach Spencer. Yeah, that could be it! That really wasn't a positive answer, because he was currently held up in here and wouldn't be able to save the ghost right away. Because Billy was always the one who needed saving.

Or…could there be a third reason? Spencer frowned a little and rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms round his chest. He was careful of the IV but curled up under the thin blanket anyway, rubbing his arms. There could potentially be something Spencer wasn't seeing, and that was scarier than any ghost or lack thereof.

"Billy…" The boy moaned into his pillow before he could help it. It was low and quiet and had the tone of someone begging for something. For an answer. For a response.

For a hug maybe. Anything.

'_Just when the hell had Billy become such a staple in my life? This is…this is so dumb. I'm such a looser for needing him this much. He's gone and I get that but I…I just want to know where he is._

_If he's okay.' _

Spencer stared unseeingly for a long time at the empty chair by his bedside. When his vision became to blurry from the tears, he finally closed them and drifted to into an uneasy and much too light sleep.

* * *

To say Billy Joe Cobra had strong willpower was like saying a wet paper bag was useful for carrying a bowling ball, or that bricks flew well.

In other words; he sucked at it. Big time. He was so used to instant gratification (and throwing a temper tantrum when that didn't happen) that it took way to much energy to **not** fly to Spencer's side the second he uttered his name. And in that needy little voice too! It broke Billy's heart, and he hovered anxiously over the kid, glad hospitals were naturally cold.

Alright so, he hadn't left, _no_. If anything he'd followed the boy in the Ambulance, and had only balked for a few minutes before the hospital doors before streaking in. (He didn't like hospitals. They gave him a tiny headache.) He never said he'd leave Spencer he just said he wouldn't cause him anymore harm and he couldn't do that if he the kid couldn't see him, right? Perfect plan! A plus! Billy really was a genius.

Except he didn't feel so smart now. He hadn't realized the weight of the situation until he spotted Spencer lying on this big cot all to himself. And god he looked small under those sheets, with the machines lying around him keeping better watch over him than Billy ever had. (A sobering, slightly angering thought.) The ghost had tried speaking to Spencer, the first time forgetting the kid could no longer hear him. The second time he'd forgotten again, and the third time he ignored. Who was he kidding? He had every right to be near Spencer, the kid was his family, his best friend! He _belonged_ to The Cobra, oh yes he did.

Billy bit his lip as he listened to Spencer shift restlessly in the hospital bed. The little kid had been tossing all night and really, it was starting to throw off his sleeping pattern too. Now that was no good. (It of course, never occurred to Billy to leave Spencer. Because that wasn't something he was sure he could live through. Well, you get the idea. It just seemed scary.)

"Little Bro you're never gonna get rest like this." Billy said conversationally as he floated down.

Spencer of course, didn't hear him.

He hovered over the thin frame, wringing his hands a little bit. The action betrayed his true emotions and he knawned heavily on his lip.

If all of Billy was cold because he was dead and comprised of nothing more than that "tingly stuff when your arm falls asleep" then the current emotion taking residence in his chest could only described as the exact opposite. It felt like a molten, feverish throb of guilt. Hell he was riddled with it and the sentiment was still raw from the memory of Spencer lying there all lifeless and bruised and bl-_hurt_. His mind still couldn't wrap around how a scrawny little film nerd like Spencer had ever made him feel such an odd emotion. No one else had managed such at thing. Well, maybe his mother once, but that was a long time ago and Billy had a poor memory. All ghosts did.

Billy was dragged from his thoughts when he heard the soft noise of the bed sheets moving, and he zoned back in. Spencer's legs shifted and his torso tried to move into a better position. This didn't seem to be what he wanted, because the kid let out a noise of frustration and threw his pillow across the room.

It phased harmlessly through the ghost's knee and he frowned. Not because he'd had a pillow pelted at him, but rather because right after Spencer's fit of irritation the kid had given the softest of sniffles and rolled onto his side and curled up, wrapping his arms round himself in a pathetic attempt at warmth and comfort. That was a familiar position, Billy knew it well. Spencer sometimes had nightmares that affected his sleeping posture. He'd toss and turn, then finally curl his body up as if to make himself less of a target. Billy had often wondered what on earth Spencer was dreaming about, but after the second time the ghost didn't let him suffer. No, this was Billy's queue to swoop down and wrap his arms around the kid's body, try and talk him down. Sometime he sang to him, but no matter what his voice always permeated the kid's dreams and Spencer would eventually settle down and still into a more peaceful sleep.

A tremor so strong it was _visible_ ran through Spencer's body, and Billy merely watched him for a split second, trying to process. This was new.

"…Spence?" Billy murmured, straightening his spine in surprise. Sniffles? Shivering? Spencer must be awake still. And if the noises and body language was anything to go by…shit.

"Aw, jeez…bro…"

And what little resolve the ghost held on to cracked and fell away. He was moving before he realized it, lying down behind Spencer before he noticed. But even when he did he only paused once, before continuing and stopping when he had his knees behind Spencer's and his chest against the little guy's spine. He didn't mind being the bigger spoon; in fact he often was when it came to Spencer. Blame it on his naturally towering height or the just the fact Spence was a scrawny little kid. But either way you sliced it Billy was bigger, and definitely stronger, and tougher but maybe only in the physical sense of the word. Mentally Spencer had him beat by a country mile and Billy was surprisingly alright with that.

The kid really was special. Not just to Billy, either.

"S'why I'm gonna take care of ya." Billy spoke softly, if only out of habit. He curled an arm round Spencer and rested his head glumly on the pillow behind Spencer's.

He absentmindedly looped a couple more feet of his lengthening appendage round the boy's waist and checked to make sure the blanket was pulled over him. Inanimate objects were only solid to him if he wanted them to be, and right now his main concern was keeping Spencer soothed and help him sleep. It seemed to be working, but that could have been his imagination, or wishful thinking.

"You'll be okay, Spencer." He placed a harmless little kiss to the top of that messy brown hair and settled back down, closing his eyes.

"I swear on my grave." He smiled with no mirth in his eyes at his dark little joke. Billy spent the rest of the night watching over his human, and was uncharacteristically quiet.


	3. Part III

**Author's Note: This story is total self indulgence. And also, Spencer spends every chapter asleep or unconscious so far and I promise that will change once he's not suffering/recovering from minor head trauma. **

* * *

"_You live in a church, where you sleep with voodoo dolls  
and you won't give up the search, __**for the ghosts in the halls."**_

* * *

Spencer returned to the mansion the very next day; and nothing particularly interesting happened during that time between being discharged from the hospital and when he actually went home. He was given prescription drugs (the hard stuff) and a sheet of information on dosage, along with a stern comment from the doctor on what to take when. He'd nodded but really had just been going through the motions. His mom was listening anyway; she was good with this stuff. Spencer was tired, and his body ached and he hadn't slept well. Factor in the complete lack of his best friend still, and the filmmaker was more than a little worried and weary by it all. He was also more than a little annoyed when it was discovered the hospital didn't have his guitar pick at all. Great. The stiff sore muscles protested when he got in and out of the car to head home, but he was relieved that he only had to take one flight of stairs up to the elevator that would bring him to his room that they called 'The Tower.'

The entire time Spencer ignored the ache of his bones and the throb of his head. He also ignored his parents and sister for the most part, something about pizza for dinner and that he should go up and rest.

"Lucky thing you did this little stint during summer vacation!" His Dad commented cheerfully.

'_Little stint…?'_

"Oh yeah Dad, _super_ lucky…I'll be fine, thanks for the concern." He moaned as he hit the button that said '3' in the elevator. He hit it again until the creaky door wobbled shut and the rickety box headed up.

Spencer swallowed, noticing the wear and tear to the little elevator almost for the first time. It hadn't seemed to be such a problem before, really. Billy was always there to make sure nothing in the house broke down. Ghosts were great at energizing electronics after all, just as bad as they were sucking it out if they didn't have their powers under control. Still, there was that confusion with the game console yesterday. Bosses didn't randomly just leap into life and pull you in, not even the really high tech ones.

Billy's ectoplasm was probably the culprit again.

'_I should have researched more about ghosts and their haunts. I guess I'll do that when I get upstairs.'_ The walls creaked eerily just then.

'_**If**__ I make it upstairs.'_ Spencer thought dryly, more aggravated and annoyed than anything else right now. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot, waiting for the door to open.

Spencer didn't have to wait much longer, and a few moments later he could be found settling down in front of his desk. He jabbed the On button of his computer (with perhaps more force than necessary) and waited a tad impatiently as it powered up. The fan whirred softly and when there wasn't the usual ruckus of Billy hanging around, Spencer was surprised to find he could focus on more than one thing at a time without the worry of being interrupted.

He did wonder briefly just how long it would take before Billy came back, though.

Recalling his purpose for getting on the computer in the first place, Spencer went to Google and typed in 'Ghosts' plus 'Possession.' The first link that popped up looked especially promising, so he clicked it.

'Understanding the Psychology of Ghosts.' The article read. That was more than enough to intrigue Spencer, and he scanned the web page for a moment. He scrolled down to discover, to his delight, a list of certain 'types' of ghost. Maybe, if he read up more on ghosts, some of Billy's mysteries would unravel. What did he have to lose?

"I wonder which one Billy would be…" Spencer murmured into his hand. There was 'The Denial Ghost. Self-explanatory, but not really Billy. 'The Unaware Ghost,' 'The Attached Ghost,' and 'The Fearful Ghost' didn't seem to fit his dead cousin either. Neither did 'The Angry Ghost' unless you counted that time someone ate all of his peanut butter without him knowing. And The Cobra certainly wasn't the 'Sad of Melancholy Ghost.' Nuh-uh.

But the link titled 'The Mischievous Ghost' seemed to resonate with his best friend, so Spencer chose on that one and read the article quietly.

The Mischievous Ghost:_ Similar to the curious ghost but of a somewhat more menacing vein is that which we call the mischievous or 'playful' ghost. It is different from the curious ghost in that it isn't as interested in demonstrating the reality of the supernatural realm as it is in simply frightening the still living. It is as though haunting is one great amusement to it, and it will spend any amount of energy necessary to play the game for as long as it can._

Obviously, then, such ghosts are immature and childish (like the personalities behind them) and are comparable to the practical joker who thinks everything he does is hilarious and can't understand why others can't see the humor in his often mean spirited and usually embarrassing shenanigans….

Well.

But Spencer's eyes roamed to the end of the article, and he read the last sentence twice.

_An immature personality is no more likely to suddenly 'grow up' once it is dead than a mature one is likely to revert to its second childhood once it dies. People will always be people, after all, regardless of whether they are dead or alive._

"People will always be…" Spencer trailed off and sighed. He leaned back in his computer chair and slouched a little. Right, that made sense.

Billy was two broken tvs away from a poltergeist honestly. Just because Spencer had gotten used to it didn't mean it was the right way for the ghost of his dead cousin to behave! Of course, if Spencer was going to label the ghost as mischievous entity, it really boiled down to the ghost's personality.

Maybe Billy Joe had gotten bored with him. Maybe he'd blamed Spencer for their wild ghost attacks (even though Billy's ectoplasm had totally been the culprit, Spencer's pretty sure) and had left because of that. To be fair, a giant Boss Monster that had tried to hypnotize him and trapped him in the digital world was currently in first place for Scariest Moment of Spencer's Young Life. Yeah, that had been freaky alright—and to think he'd still be there if not for Billy chasing after him. That was a rare act of selflessness for the ghost, but maybe that had also been the last straw? It wouldn't be the first time the ghost had acted selfishly for no apparent reason, only to second late retract the sentiment by some usual act of superiority or rudeness.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

Spencer hit the back arrow on the screen, and glanced down the list of Ghost types once more. He hesitated only a moment before taping one of the titles.

He read the article for a bit before deciding to go downstairs and get a bite to eat, even though he wasn't really hungry.

* * *

But as Spencer left, Billy remained. Mostly because he'd been reading the website over his little bro's shoulder, and he was a much slower reader than Spencer was. Secondly because he was enraptured by the clarity of the second article Spencer had picked.

The Mission Ghost_**:**__ A generally more 'upbeat' and even lively entity, his type of ghost stays around in order to take care of some unfinished business that was cut short by their unexpected death._

Billy Joe Cobra glanced at Spencer's retreating back and when the elevator doors closed on him, the ghost went back to his reading. He lay in mid air casually and crossed his arms. He wasn't really much the bookworm type, it was too nerdy a stereotype—but he was willing to make an exception in this case. Maybe Spenc had the right idea, like usual. His little bro was so smart.

_This 'mission' can be as simple as revealing the location of a hidden will or as major as trying to find justice for a life cut short by murder, but in either case 'mission ghosts' seem intent upon achieving some goal they've set before themselves and feel they cannot rest until they have been succeeded. As such, they will often be among the most persistent and frequently appearing type of manifestation, for they have important things to do._

Well, naturally. He had VERY important things to do, after all.

Now if he could just remember _what_ they were…

But when Billy tried to think to hard about such a mission, his thoughts were fleeting and foggy at best. It sort of felt like thinking through molasses, or when it got to warm out and he started melting precious ecto. It was too hard, and Billy quickly got bored with exerting so much energy for just a little stray though. Not a fun experience. It was such an effort in fact, that he lowered in the air several feet and didn't notice until the computer desk was going through his head. He shot up and hovered over the computer a moment, pulling back from the glowing screen. Billy glanced back at the computer but shivered and streaked for the floor, wondering if he should trail after Spencer or wait for the boy's return.

The ghost gulped nervously and rubbed his face. He glanced guiltily around to see if anyone saw him (of course, no one did) before leaning back up.

Maybe he shouldn't read up on ghosts anymore. They did give him the heebie-jeebies after all. Being scared of ghosts was a good mental trick to let him get away with studiously not thinking about any 'unfinished business' he might have. Or maybe the better word would be it was a good excuse.

Billy bit his lip and listened to the elevator shaft move back up to this floor. He shot for the ceiling to keep the cold away from his little bro and watched as his kid reentered the room. Oh gosh—were those peanut butter cookies!? Billy perked up, but blinked in confusion when Spencer set them down and walked away. Wait—were they for him? Oh gosh, his little bro was _so_ sweet.

As far as Billy was concerned, Spencer Wright was his unfinished business and would continue to be so until Billy decided otherwise.

* * *

Having found nothing that coaxed his appetite in the kitchen, Spencer had returned with only a soda. He did however, also have a handful of peanut butter cookies he'd found in the back of the pantry. The teen set them down on a bedside table as a sort of peace offering to Billy. The ghost thought with his stomach more often than not, so it was worth a shot, right? It wasn't like Spencer had the energy to exert to go and look for the ghost himself. And either way, Spencer didn't know where to _begin_ looking for the ghost. He didn't like this uncertainty, but what else could he do? With a grunt of aggravation, Spencer eventually wandered back to his computer chair. The room was still empty, still big. Still a little lonely.

"Billy…?" He tried calling softly before he sat down. The boy sighed heavily and sat down. He went back to the article, sipping his soda and tapping the mouse lightly. It was actually a subconscious action he'd picked up from Billy that the ghost did whenever he was distracted by something. Spencer continued reading and stopped at the end of the page. At this point, his head was starting to have a teeny tiny ache and he felt no desire to stay awake any longer. Stupid head wound.

So Spencer got up and kicked off his sneakers and socks. He shimmied out of his jeans and crawled into bed with nothing but boxers and a t-shirt and curled up against a pillow he dragged down to his side. He didn't care how lame he looked. He mulled over the events of the past day and a half and felt the bandage round his head. It would come off in a couple says and then there'd be some cool stitches to look at in the mirror at least. Showering would be a total pain in the ass though. Ugh.

Spencer flung an arm round the pillow he was hugging and tightened his hold. It more or less a nuzzle, but he was too tired to worry about looking stupid, cuddling his pillow. Wasn't like anyone else was providing him comfort anyway, was it? He rolled until he could see the cookies he'd left on the table, and watched them for a long while.

They didn't move, and it was almost as if there never had been a ghost in the first place. As if it was just Spencer's 'overactive imagination' at work. Like it used to be, when he was a kid.

Frowning softly even half asleep, Spencer let his eyes flutter closed and he dozed quietly.

* * *

Billy meanwhile, swooped silently down and skirted over Spencer's form. He didn't really want to wake up the little guy, since Billy remembered hearing something about bed rest when the doctor was prattling on. Yes, Billy had been there for that to. He'd been with Spencer the moment he'd woken up, or at least was only a room or two away from him if they did separate for a second.

That was nothing new.

Except this time, Spencer didn't react to Billy. The ghost was still wrestling with wrapping his mind around such a concept. It was so bad he was still being quiet even though he knows nothing short of him pushing a lamp of a table would work to get Spencer's attention. As it was, he picked the cookie up one by one and chowed them down, grabbing the rest to eat as his long body snaked over to Spencer's computer.

Goodie! His bro had left the web page up.

_A ghost is the manifestation of a personality, and that personality—and the person it represents—can live on and even express itself without having to manifest itself in the physical realm at all, which not only demonstrates the power of the human consciousness, but the power of love as well. _

Hmm.

Billy continued reading, his legs eventually joining up behind him. He munched the last two cookies and had just finished the article when he heard a familiar, soft whining noise. He jerked around to see Spencer shuddering in his sleep a little bit, and something in his chest panged reproachfully.

Billy paused only a moment to read the final sentence once more.

_There is no more powerful force in the universe and, in fact, may be all that truly exists within the context of the absolute._

He could no longer ignore the little needy sounds Spencer was making in his sleep and the ghost turned round.

Then he smiled softly and snaked his way to curl up behind Spencer like he'd done the night before. It was becoming a fast habit, and right now it was the only thing keeping Billy remotely sane. He coiled some protective limbs round the warm little body and drifted into the not-sleep ghosts had to be accustomed to doing.


End file.
